The Verdict's Out And It Doesn't Look Good
by Displaced Warrior
Summary: Angela is struggling with her feelings toward a certain forensic anthropologist. Set after the Season 3 episode The verdict in the story. This is an angsty one-shot. Femslash but one-sided.


A/N 1: So in deciding to tell RL to go screw itself I've started the process of cleaning out my documents to see what's salvageable. Here's to hoping RL takes the hint.

A/N 2: I struggled with whether to leave this the angsty one-shot it started out as ages ago or give it a fluffy spin. In the end I decided to stay true to the muses' initial direction but could possibly be persuaded to "fix" it.

So let me know what you think! Feedback makes RL much more bearable xD

**The Verdict's Out...And It Doesn't Look Good**

It's a shame there were no cameras around as the scene on the courthouse steps was picture perfect.

The mood was light, the weight of tension lifted. Temperance Brennan stood in the embrace of her estranged father.

Surrounded by family of both blood and circumstance.

All the people who held a significant place in Brennan's life stood watching their beloved scientist displaying a rare moment of humanity mostly with gracious smiles.

However had say, Sweets been paying any particular attention he may have noticed the carefully concealed emotions lurking behind a certain plastered on smile.

_This isn't happening. _

_This can't be happening. _

Her emotions were running rampant and her first instinct was to run.

Far and fast.

She needed to get away an onslaught of tears threatening to burst through her dam of self control but she held it together.

Like she always did, standing firm with strength she doesn't feel, she simply smiled. The smile however, didn't reach her eyes. The sadness remained locked away behind the sturdy mask she was sporting far too frequently of late.

Logically she knew she shouldn't be upset but logic was always where she differed from the other "squints".

Angela Montenegro was all heart.

A heart that just added one more crack to its already abundant collection.

So focused on keeping control of her rapidly decaying façade Angela never heard the footsteps that approached where she stood a good distance from everyone else

"Ang, you ok?"

She looked up into the smiling eyes of Hodgins and sighed.

His eyes still held obvious love for her despite the fact that she turned down his marriage proposal. He had been surprised to say the least, but she knew it couldn't hold a candle to shock she felt when he popped the question.

She enjoyed spending time with him, and truly liked him but deep down she knew she was using him to run away. One of her biggest regrets was she hadn't realized until much too late how serious their relationship was to Jack.

She knew dating him wouldn't erase the simple truth that her heart belonged to another.

She fell for the one person who would probably never return her feelings. She didn't know how she came to fall for her best friend and she didn't know why.

But the bottom line was she loved Dr. Temperance Brennan with all that she was.

Fine print she shouldn't.

Her actions with Hodgins had been tinged with desperation and now she couldn't undo what she'd done. And she hated that she'd hurt a sweet guy in the process.

"I'm fine"

Both new it was a lie but Hodgins didn't push and for that Angela was grateful.

Their interaction tacked guilt onto her already overwhelming emotions.

Watching Booth, watching Brennan Angela struggled to keep up appearances.

_Why do I always stick around? _

_Because you're a masochist that's why. _

_I cannot believe this is happening... well I can but I don't have to like it. _

With every comment uttered by her inner voice her passive emotions were fast giving way to anger. The sort of irrational fury that stems from pain and more often than not results in an all out emotional breakdown.

_Breathe…Breathe…_

Her inner mantra was doing little to cool down her now boiling blood. She wanted to kick and scream and hit stuff and throw things. Not exactly conducive feelings while trying to maintain a steady smile.

She recalled walking out of the courthouse, only to stop briefly behind the pillar when she caught sight of Temperance wrapped up Booth's protective embrace.

_What did he do to deserve that hug goddamnit? _

The small part of her not currently caught up in a swirling rage of jealously understood and was even grateful for the support and comfort Brennan was receiving, unfortunately even that small part was quickly losing ground to unsavory emotions.

_I was incarcerated for you. I let them throw me in a fuckin' jail cell to preserve our "friendship". He testified against your father, made sure everyone else did as well and for crying out loud he made it ridiculously plausible that you murdered the inspector! Yet he gets a full body hug complete with neck nuzzling. While I get an elbow grasp an elbow grasp? I get that you needed comfort and consolation I really do but why turn to him when I was only two feet away?_

The emotional roller coaster she was on took a sharp turn from anger and plummeted into unrelenting darkness.

She hated feeling this way, the petty thoughts. Refusing to testify didn't come with expectations of something more from Brennan. She did it because despite these feelings Temp was her best friend and she knew not testifying was the right thing to do.

She despised the uncharitable competitive thoughts that plagued her around Booth. These gloomy sentiments not usually a part of her personality were really taking a toll on her.

When Brennan broke from the paternal embrace and took a step towards Booth, Angela knew she had to get away immediately.

With all the revelry Angela was able to slip away fairly easily, making it to her car unnoticed.

She pulled her car out the space and headed toward the one placed that always made her feel better.

A swing set, not just any swing set but one that overlooked the ocean. She had stumbled upon it quite by accident a few years ago. Its chains were slightly rusted from the sea air, the metal had carvings and marker covering parts of it telling years of stories but it was sturdy showing no signs of danger.

A restless spirit at heart, there was something about the ocean that called to her, an ancient song that few hear.

It was one of the reasons she spent so much time traveling.

Her job at the Jeffersonian anchored her down to an extent, so she took whatever chance she could to come out here.

Often for comfort but also to feel the sheer power that radiated from the place. Not to mention the swings that truly made the place perfect.

The freedom, the innocence, the joy all from some scraps of metal and rubber. At times like this she truly needed the essence of childhood. It never ceased to amaze her that something as simple as swings could provide that at any age.

Sitting alone in this place Angela attempted to gather her thoughts.

"I'm being ridiculous" she told no one in particular.

The cry of a rouge seagull seemingly answering in the affirmative of that statement caused Angela to chuckle before taking advantage of the silence and just getting lost in the crashing of the waves and the wind on her face.

She enjoyed a magnificent sunset followed by some impromptu stargazing that recharged her batteries in a way alcohol or other vices never could.

Drained from the rampant emotions but feeling much better she decided it was time to go.

Getting into her car Angela made the decision to head to the Jeffersonian in lieu of going home knowing sleep would be eluding her that night.

Turns out being locked up puts a real kink in your social and work life.

She figured her time would be best spent working since she knew she had some catching up to do and it was far healthier than going to the nearest bar.

Her last minute trip had nothing to do with a certain auburn haired forensic anthropologist…

_Right who are you kidding sweetie you're banking on Temp's stubborn streak keeping her in the lab at ungodly hours….alone…at least until…_

"Shut Up!"

Angela's voice rang out in the empty car effectively silencing the taunting of her inner thoughts.

Choosing a safer topic to muse on Angela decided that she might as well pick up some food. Swinging by a favorite Thai place fairly close by.

Arriving at the Jeffersonian she noted it looked like a building in a ghost town, if it weren't for the sheer moderness of the design all steel and glass and sharp angles she'd expect a tumble weed to roll by at any second. The illogical part of her still did to a point.

Entering the building armed only with take-out containers she barely suppressed a shudder. The clacking of her heels on the linoleum floor the only sound besides the eerie humming of some unseen machines.

Even before the glass doors slid open Angela spotted the overhead light illuminating the bones on the table of the raised platform in the center of the room.

She managed to stop a little happy dance from erupting but was powerless against the genuine smile that emerged on her face.

Her rational mind had once again taken a backseat to her heart.

"Temp you around? I brought food" Angela called out.

No answer.

So she headed towards Dr. Brennan's office hoping to find the enigmatic scientist. She could see the small light of Brennan's desk lamp through the open blinds of the large glass windows.

She barely registered the containers of Chinese food already scattered across the table, too lost in her own mind.

She took a deep breath to gather her wits and opened the door.

"Temp I-" the words died on her lips upon spotting the two figures on the couch.

Booths jacket was pooled at her feet by the entrance.

His shirt flung carelessly over the chair where somehow Brennan's jacket had apparently been thrown as well. Brennan was straddling the already shirtless Booth, while his fingers deftly undid the buttons of her blouse. His hands moved inside her now open blouse Brennan threw her head back, eyes closed concentrating on the sensation.

Angela tried to move, she did, but her feet were rooted to the spot.

With one final crack her heart reached its limit and crumbled.

As a scientist she knew it wasn't possible, but her artists' soul would swear she heard the pieces bounce off her ribs after it shattered.

The carefully constructed dam burst and tears began streaming down her face.

She turned to run but not before Brennan's eyes opened catching her own over Booth's shoulder. Shocked blue locked onto heartbroken brown.

Angela recovered first and bolted from the room.

Leaving behind the shards of her broken heart among the containers of Thai food splattered on the floor.


End file.
